It occurred to her then that they might not be talking about the same thing. "The fire, Nick, I was asking you if you thought Noah had told Tommy about the fire yet," she explained. "And about Steve Brenner being arrested."

"Oh. Yeah, I’m sure he’s told him by now. At least I hope he did before Tommy read about it in the paper."

"What were you talking about?"

"Never mind."

"I want to know. Tell me."

"Us," he said, gripping the steering wheel. "I thought you were asking me if Noah told Tommy about us."

Her head snapped up. "And you said you should be the one to tell him. You did say that, didn’t you?" She sounded incredulous.

"Yeah, that’s exactly what I said."

"You’re joking though, aren’t you?"

"No, I’m not."

"You are not going to tell my brother about last night." She was vehement.

"I think I should," he argued, and he suddenly sounded quite calm and reasonable.

She thought he was out of his mind. "Absolutely not. What happened between us stays between us."

"Normally that would be true," he agreed. "But you’re… different. I should tell him."

"I’m not different."

"Yes, you are, sweetheart. Your brother’s my best friend, and he also just happens to be a priest. Yeah, I’ve got to tell him. It’s the decent thing to do. Besides, he’s gonna figure it out. He’ll know."

"He isn’t clairvoyant."

"I’ve never been able to pull anything over on him, not since second grade. He’s always known what’s going on inside my head. He’s bailed me out of a lot of trouble. For a while, when we were at Penn State, he was like my conscience. No, I’m not going to lie to him."

She could feel a headache coming on. "You don’t have to lie. You don’t have to say anything."

"I’m telling you he’s going to know. I’ve got to tell him."

"Have you lost your mind?"

"No."

"You are not telling him. I know you feel as though you’ve betrayed him, but-"

He wouldn’t let her finish. "Of course I feel like I’ve betrayed him. He trusted me, damn it."

The road was deserted and so he pulled the car over on the shoulder.

"I know it’s going to be a little awkward for you, but you’ll get past it," he said.

She couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. "Nick, my brother trusted you to keep me safe. You’ve done that. You don’t need to tell him about last night."

Astonishment had given way to anger and embarrassment, and she was so upset tears came to her eyes. She vowed she’d die before she cried in front of him again.

"I haven’t done anything I’m ashamed of," she insisted. "And you promised me you wouldn’t have any regrets."

"Yeah, well, I lied."

She jabbed him in the shoulder. "If you feel so guilty, then go to confession."

She was glaring at him now, and all he could think about was how pretty she was when she was angry. He wouldn’t have been surprised if sparks flew out of her eyes.

"I thought about going to confession," he admitted. "And then I pictured Tommy’s fist coming through that grille, and I thought, no, that wouldn’t be right. I can’t tell him that way. It should be face-to-face."

She put her hand to her brow to try to stop the pounding. "I didn’t mean for you to go to confession to Tommy," she said. "Go to another priest."

"Don’t get into a lather."

"You have nothing to feel guilty about," she cried out. "I seduced you."

"No, you didn’t."

"I most certainly did."

"All right," he said. "Then tell me, how’d you do it?"

"I made you feel sorry for me. I cried."

He rolled his eyes. "I see," he drawled. "So I made love to you out of pity? Is that the way you see it?"

She seriously contemplated getting out of the car and walking back to town.

"Let me ask you something," she said then, trying to make him realize how unreasonable and stubborn he was being. "You have slept with other women, haven’t you?"

"Yes, I have," he agreed. "You want the number?"

"No," she countered. "I want to know what happened after you had sex with them. Did you feel compelled to tell their mothers?"

He laughed. "No, I didn’t."

"Well then?"

"Like I said before, honey. You’re different."

She folded her arms across her chest and stared straight ahead "I’m not talking about this any longer."

"Laurant, look at me. How about if I promise you something?"

"Why bother? You don’t keep your promises."

"Making me promise I wouldn’t have any regrets was just plain stupid, so I don’t think that should count. I’ll keep this promise," he assured her. "If he doesn’t ask, I won’t tell. I won’t say anything to your brother for a couple of days. That should give you enough time to calm down."

"Not good enough," she countered. "Since you’re compelled to be a blabbermouth, you have to wait until you’re back in Boston."

"I should tell him face-to-face so, if he wants to punch me, he can."

"Boston," she gritted out between clenched teeth.

He finally relented. They got back on the road and headed for home again.

"Nick?"

"Yes?"

He sounded downright cheerful now. He was the most exasperating man.

"Any other bombshells you want to drop on me before we get home?"

"Yeah, come to think of it, there is one more thing I should probably mention."

She mentally braced herself. "What is it? No, let me guess. You want to put it in the paper."

He laughed. "No."

"Then what?" Now she sounded cranky.

"When I go back to Boston…"

"Yes?"

"You’re going with me."

"Why?"

"Because I’m not letting you out of my sight until I’m convinced we’ve got the right guy under lock and key."

"For how long?"

"As long as it takes. Until I’m satisfied."

"I can’t do that."

"You’re going to," he countered.

"I’ll go with you to Boston while the anniversary is going on here, but then I have to come back. I have to find a place to live, open my store, make some decisions about what I’m going to do with the rest of my life. I need some time to sort things out."

"I want to talk to you about something else while I’m thinking of it."

"Yes?"

"You aren’t in love with me."

She blinked. "I’m not?"

"No," he said emphatically. "You just think you are. You’re confused," he explained. "You’ve been under a hell of a lot of stress, and we’ve been tied together."

She knew where he was headed. "I see."

"Transference."

"I’m sorry?"

"It’s called transference. It’s kind of like a patient falling in love with her doctor. It’s not real," he stressed.

"That’s what I’m suffering from?"

"Not suffering, honey," he said. "But I do think you’ve confused gratitude with love."

She pretended to ponder the possibility for a long minute and then said, "I believe you might be right."

She swore that if he looked the least bit relieved, she would do him bodily harm.

"You do?" He sounded a little stunned.

"Yes, I do," she said more forcefully.

He wanted confirmation. "So you realize you don’t love me"

No, she thought. I realize that telling you I love you terrifies you because it means commitment and taking a chance.

"That’s exactly what I realize," she told him. "It’s that transference thing all right. I was confused, but I’m not any longer. Thank you for clearing it up for me."

He shot her a hasty glance. "That was pretty damn quick, wasn’t it?"

"When you’re right, you’re right."

"That’s it?" He was suddenly furious with her and didn’t care that it showed. Damn it, she had told him she loved him, and after a one-minute argument, she caved. What the hell kind of love was that? "That’s all you have to say?"

"No, actually there is just one more thing I’d like to mention."

"Yeah? What’s that?"

"You’re an idiot."